


ZERO

by kattmanic, milkyglitter (kattmanic)



Series: Resident Evil: Re-Written [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Biohazard | Resident Evil References, Canon Compliant, F/M, G-Virus (Resident Evil), Game: Resident Evil 2, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Story picks up when Lottie gets out of her head, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, here for the long haul, plot is there too somewhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23617360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattmanic/pseuds/kattmanic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattmanic/pseuds/milkyglitter
Summary: When the dead rose in Racoon city, chaos reigned and few survived.In a cruel twist of fate, Lottie Knute found herself fighting for her way down streets she barely knew in an attempt to stay alive. With everything seemingly out for her blood, Lottie set her sights on Racoon City's police department in the hopes that she would find some semblance of safety.However, that's not quite what she finds.// Contains graphic depictions of violence, gore and death. Contains spoilers for Resident Evil: 2 and canon divergence.
Relationships: Claire Redfield & Original Character(s), Leon S. Kennedy & Original Character(s), Leon S. Kennedy/Original Character(s), Leon S. Kennedy/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Resident Evil: Re-Written [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700023
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. 0 // Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> ☆ This is a cross-post from my wattpad in an attempt to get myself to finally finish and post the completed work.
> 
> ☆ Find the orginal post [here.](https://www.wattpad.com/story/176476028-zero-leon-s-kennedy)
> 
> //☆ Charlie

#  Zero // Teaser

* * *

  
  
  
  


"Please, I'm begging you -" Between heavy, heaving sobs, the cries of the living pierced silent streets. "Don't make me do this!"

Thick black smoke rose in plumes, lit with a haunting glow from the fires littering the streets below. Flicks of yellow flames reached for the heavens between abandoned cars and shattered storefronts. With no distinction between the pavement and the road, each street lay abandoned - the clear signs of the panic still scorched into the concrete. There was no space left untouched by the endless night that seemed to loom ever so ominously over Racoon city in its hour of need - one that ticked so sluggishly along.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


For a second everything was silent.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Then, the eye of the storm passed. Another heavy hearted cry echoed.

"Please! Oh God, please! Just stop!"

The sound bounced from street to street, a sharp noise in comparison with the soft sparking of flames. Any time prior to this, if the night had been so disrupted in such a way, then it would be safe to say that the broken soul would've been heard. But in a city of the dead, cries fall on deaf ears.

Not only had the city fallen to its grave but the ghosts of those who once were roamed.

Phantoms, dressed so sickeningly in the decaying bodies of those murdered, littered the streets. Their faces were twisted and slack where muscles gave in, leaving a gaumless look to those unfortunate few who were left alive. Skin bubbled, oozing fluids of red, yellow and black down festering cuts. Some of these, lay so deep that cold, soggy flesh dangled precariously from extremities. Even still, most of these creatures dragged what they had left of their former self around - brain in a catatonic state so deep that they would never wake. The damage led to the loss of many functions that one would consider 'human'. They had no speech, only snarls and the gurgle of fluids. In many cases, what was left of the individual seemed to imitate breathing - a low, hoarse wheeze - almost as if the innate functions of the brain were trying to compensate for the trauma. Whatever was keeping those who passed alive, still had control over undamaged nerves. So shuffling, reaching, moaning corpses littered the streets. Each served a single purpose; to attack and infect anything living by any means necessary.

And so, blood and torn insides pained the streets.  
  
  
  
  
  


"J-Just stay away!" The voice broke through again - this time the sorrow carried - the speech was broken and thick with tears. Their heart was no longer really in what they were saying, almost as if breaking point had been reached.

The only reply came as a wet snap of teeth and a scuffling of footsteps. The undead seemed never ceasing in the pursuit of those still living. The had no fate to fear - no mind to think and no humanity left. They were void, staggering carcasses, bleeding and leaking their decay wherever they went. The dead didn't break in the way the living did.

"Please don't make me..!" A girl, short in stature, held a gun in her shaking hands. Her aim was sloppy, jumping about the place as she tried to comprehend what was in front of her.

It was one of those... things. What once was a woman convulsed on the floor. It writhed for a bit in its own skin, twitching as it dragged itself across the floor and away from the thorax it'd invested its time into. What was left of the chest cavity was pushed to the side - bones skittering across the concrete with force. It lunged to its feet in an exaggerated motion, stumbling in an attempt to remain upright.

The remains of the woman struck a chord with the small girl and she let out a whimper, lowering the gun to cover her nose. The fumes made her gag, even in the early stages of decomposition the smell was still overwhelming. For the young girl, her mind seemed numb. What was ambling towards her was once someone she knew. They shared the same hair colour, the same soft slope of the jaw and the same button nose. But that was in a time now passed. She had watched what she'd previously called her mother gorge on the remains of her father.

 _Nothing seemed real anymore_ as she re-aligned her aim with the unfamiliar weapon. It was heavy in her hands- loaded so kindly by the unfortunate soul that dropped it. Without stopping her tears from rolling down her cheeks, she let her finger slide to the trigger.

The creature had made its way to her and was almost in arms reach. She braced herself.

As she took in a breath, a single thought crossed her mind...

_"Would it ever be again?"_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


From the street he'd found himself traipsing through, Leon felt his chest tighten a little. He'd been trying to make his way to the RPD for a while now, only to be met with disaster after disaster. He let out a shaky breath, keeping his gun expertly trained directly ahead. His heart seemed to pound in his head and his breathing was deafeningly loud. Being the only sound besides the low groan of corpses, he was praying for something - anything - to break his thoughts from the tinnitus that was currently haunting him.  
  
  


Just then - a shot rang out in the distance.


	2. 1 // Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ready? Let the nightmare commence...

Letting out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, Leon stepped back from the gate. The dead that had been chasing him through the streets were pushing against it, arms clawing through the bars. As he turned to enter the precinct, the groan of hinges became quieter. The soft clank of the metal against the lock was the last thing he registered from the outside once he was met with the warm lights of the front lobby.

Much to his dismay, everything seemed abandoned.

"Hello...? Anybody here?"

The silence was what he was met with again. So with a sigh, he brought his gun back up. There was something ominous, about the way his footsteps echoed in the large but empty foyer. Leon could clearly picture how it would've looked on a regular day - bustling with people. There would be clerks at the now very empty front desk - eager and impatient citizens sitting in the waiting room. Officers would've paced through open doors, discussing cases with officials over a cup of coffee during the last hours of the evening shift. All that was left now was the soft whistle of wind - a reminder of what should've been.

His heart had sunk - morale wounded by the stark reality he was faced with. Some part of him, deep within, had already predicted the lack of survivors - with just how many of the dead had been crawling after him on his way. Yet, he knew that someone had survived - Claire. The girl he came into town with had certainly held her own at the gas station. If anyone left had any chance - he really hoped it was her.

Coming to a stop at the large wooden frame of the welcome desk, it was clear just how abandoned the station was. Hospital beds had cordoned off into makeshift sections, fenced with the dividers from the emergency room. From the looks of things, several groups had once called this foyer their home. It was then that a question struck Leon at full force - Just how long had all this been going on for? How long had the people been trapped here?

Wherever they had gone, it was clear that they were not coming back - all personal effects seemed missing as if everyone had left in a rush.

Much to his luck, Leon found one of the station laptops - one that had been monitoring surveillance.

"...There has to be someone here."

//

Lottie wasn't exactly sure at what point it had begun raining, as she only realised just at that point that she was soaked to the bone. Her hair had darkened in the rain - taking on a black hue - or was it the blood? She couldn't be sure. Her jacket only provided light protection, so her chest was dry. This was opposed to her legs, head and feet that seemed to squelch with each step.

Something else she had learnt was that you don't fire a gun at something from point-blank range. Not only had the noise practically deafened her but she was covered in congealed remains, they had splattered all in her hair. This was only apparent once the rain had begun, dribbling streaks of red down her rain jacket shoulders.

Still, despite her epiphanies, she didn't quite know how long she'd been wandering the streets in a daze - not quite thinking but stuck in a fuzzy, ringing state of blankness. It was with her whole heart that she refused to compute what had happened earlier - not now. She didn't think she could take reality for a while - with everything being so surreal.

The cold was beginning to bite - September storms always had bitter winds. So, it was with a heavy heart that she decided to take the advice of the ever-repeating tannoy.

"...-Residents are advised to evacuate to Racoon City Police Station-..."

It'd only really been playing the last few days - since the riots broke out.

It was better than what she had to return to - an empty hotel room of, well; nothing. Maybe she'd find other survivors...? By looking around, she didn't deem that very likely. It must've been something between the chattering of her teeth and the rain washing away her dried tears that pushed her to move. Anything was better than freezing out in the pouring rain, surrounded by ambling corpses. Plus the frequency of the undead was getting more and more concerning - she knew soon that she would be unable to just hide and feel sorry for herself.

That's how she found herself staring blankly at the RPD gates from behind the perch of a nearby car. It was swarming with the dead - they were rattling at the chainmail fence with such force that it swayed violently, groaning in time with them like some fucked up choir.

Seeing as the dead tended to stalk the living, it was more than likely that they had followed some poor soul into the precinct.

From the safe distance, it was definitely more than appealing to haul ass and get the living hell out of there before the riot caught wind of the fresh meat on the streets. That would've been a sensible decision. One that should really hit an individual with a stifling sense of urgency - but in her rather dissociative state, Lottie failed to make that decision before it was almost too late.

From behind her - a single zombie had snuck up, only within yards of her once she realised. From her position on the balls of her feet, she launched her small frame forward with an odd squawk of fear. That was apparently just enough to attract more of a crowd, as two nearby dead shifted to life, wailing out as they did so. In turn, this only caught the attention of more and more of the dead as the groans got louder. Once Lottie had righted herself, gun still shakily in hand - she found no route of escape.

With hasty steps, she backed herself up until she was pressed against the smooth stone of the police departments outer wall. Faced with a dead-end, frantic panic seemed to bubble more furiously in her chest. Images of teeth gnawing at pink flesh flashed before her eyes and she let out a tiny whimper - she didn't want to end up like that. Lottie turned, hands roaming over the wall, trying to find purchase to lift herself up and out of the way. With little give, greyed hands entered her peripherals - chancing for her hair. The dead were upon her now - swarming with furious intent. She dodged out of the way just in time, dirty nails only brushing the ends of her hair.

"Fuck!" Scrambling to get away, she made away from the wall. Her feet smacked against the wet concrete, skidding slightly with each step. "Fuck, Fuck!" It was like a maze around her - in one direction there were rows of haphazardly strewn cars and blockades, then in the other - the tall defence of the outer gates of the precinct. And if that wasn't intimidating enough most of it was on fire. This was not even including the evergrowing number of lurking dead.

Getting herself together, Lottie paced her steps - with arms out in front to her, she hurdled onto the bonnet of a nearby parked car. Quickly, she lunged onto the roof, only just making it without slipping in the rain. By this point, the zombies gaining on her had made it to the car with arms stretched wide - screaming and crooning. She avoided the hands she could - having to shake off one and shoot at another - and made it to the rear of the car that was pressed against the RPD fence gates. Clicking on the safety and tucking the gun into the back of her jeans, Lottie dried the water off her palms and on her shirt. Then, with a few steps worth of a run-up, she jumped at the gates - scrabbling to find any purchase in the rain. Her fingertips were just able to snag the top bar and with a little struggle, she was able to properly grip around the base of the arrow-headed spikes at the top. She heaved herself up with difficulty, straining in an attempt to pull herself up and over - preferably, without impalement.

Once she'd managed to pull her chest up, to press against the spikes, Lottie began the task of bringing her legs up and over. But, suddenly - the fence began to sway wildly. Apparently the dead had been none too happy about missing out on their evening snack - as they'd taken to slamming and clawing at the fence. With the more of them pushing in, the gate had begun to wobble - the impending weight of the now tens of zombies pushing up against it proving a little more than it could handle.

Lottie hung on for dear life, trying to maintain some hold on the top rungs when her grip on the gate slipped.


	3. 2 // No rest

With a degree of difficulty and a little hesitation, Lottie rolled her shoulder. Although stiff, the seemingly tense pain was no more so that all that remained was a dull ache. Of all the things to be grateful for, this was at the top of her list. Although it had happened only moments ago, the memory of the sharp, ever building pain had begun to fade. It was still hot to the touch, a little inflamed, yet it was now the least of Lottie's worries.

_The dead were rattling the fence and Lottie could no longer hold on._

_Her hand fell forwards quickly, with all of her weight in tow. She'd only just managed to bring her leg over but with the force of the sway, she felt her whole body follow through. The fence swayed back in and she was thrown forwards, spikes grazing her arm on the way down. Rather ungracefully, she screamed - hitting the floor like a lead weight. Immediately - pain shot up her side where she'd landed, her left hip and shoulder feeling more than worse for wear. What she later predicted to be at least a ten-foot drop had left her with black spots in her vision - but she didn't have time to stop._

_"Come on!" She whimpered, holding her arm close. It seethed with pain, practically numbing her senses to anything else._

_With a groan, Lottie forced herself up. White-Hot pain shot through her head and shoulder as she stumbled forwards, vision slightly spinning. Pushing through, she was in an alley that lead to the stone surround courtyard of the entrance - she could just about make out the white barred gate through the poorly bordered up archway in front of her. In that single moment, she felt distant. Her heart was in her head, throbbing in time with the pain beating down her left side. The dead's calls sounded faint and far - but she knew better. They were close, clawing through the gates behind her._

_In the archway, horizontal slats of hastily boarded wood blocked her path momentarily, before she ambled her way through a gap large enough for her to slip through. It took her a little while longer than she would've liked to admit - but she made it past the front gate and into the main hall, slamming the door shut behind her._

Curiously, she found herself following Martin down the polished ramp and back towards the main door. It had been barricaded up. Stacks of miscellaneous items were propped up in a haste, with Martin's bloody fingerprints smeared in places. At some point, he'd found the time to barricade the door and set her shoulder - all that with the gaping wound at his side?

Despite his warm, dark skin tone a sheen of what only could be described as a dulling green had taken over. He seemed exhausted, body hunched over and had gripped his side. Martin was sick. Bloodstained the light blue of his uniform top and covered his hands. Mud had dried to his skin, telling a tale of scuffle and struggle. On his face, he wore an expression to match. Martin was an officer - a lieutenant. He was someone who had been held up in the station since the beginning. However, much like the streets, things seemed like they had gotten out of hand here too.

"As I said - we're no longer safe here." He swallowed thickly through a wave of pain. "Elliot - another officer - he had an idea as to a way out of here. Where he is now, though, is another issue entirely."

Taking in the information, Lottie paused, her nervousness beginning to creep in.

"But he should still be in the station?" To this, Martin gave a nod. "S-so he should be back soon, right?"

The pair had come to a stop outside a closed shutter. The words 'KEEP OUT' were enough to further the uneasiness in Lottie's chest. Suddenly, the room felt a little bit colder - as if a draft had picked up from whatever laid behind the sealed doorway. It crawled up the back of her neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. There was a musty, damp smell - like some sort of wet rot. To say it was unpleasant would be an understatement.

Lottie shivered.

"I don't think we can rely on that anymore." A soft tone settled in his voice and his expression wilted. He turned his body to face away from the shutter door. It was slightly ajar - smeared fluids and wet mud covered the floor beneath. The fear from earlier threatened to swallow Lottie whole. Martin seemed to sense this and placed his left hand to her shoulder.

She couldn't look up, suddenly consumed in a memory. Lottie was no fighter. Her frame was small and her muscles weak. As a nervous soul - her nails were bitten until they bled, brought up to her mouth - she'd constantly worry at the skin. Her earlier actions hadn't exactly been the smartest and her aim was poor. Yet somehow - she was still alive.

The pair were startled from the moment when cries of the dead picked up. Previously, it'd only been the soft breathing but Lottie recognised the change enough for her to physically flinch and recoil into herself.

They'd begun screeching - moaning and heaving. It was the noise they had made in the alley, in the streets - back with her family before she ever knew what was going on. She could see them, mouths hanging and limbs reaching out for the beating hearts as they passed. It was the sound of death. The exact sound her mother had made before..!

"Someone's back there." She said, face twisted in fear.

"What?" Martin had turned to the shutter as well and was beginning to back away slowly.

"It's the noises they make w-when t-they-" Her voice grew scratchy and hoarse, pitching as a body began to crawl its way under the shutter. Lottie felt her heart in her throat but something was wrong. The body moved with too much, well; life. It seemed to be heaving - moving way faster than any of the dead she'd encountered so far. Maybe there were other types of the dead. Ones she was yet to encounter. Faster, stronger and more bloodthirsty than anything-

"Come On!"

Wait a minute.

Another body joined the scuffle beneath the slim gap - Martin had begun to move forward in Lottie's periphery. The new body was much greyer and was snarling, as opposed to the flushed male that was struggling beneath.

"Goddamnit!"

_Oh God, he's alive._

He squirmed under the newfound weight on his bottom half. He didn't know just how the zombie had caught up so quickly - only that it had and was about to rip the skin off his back. His arms stretched out - trying to find some sort of purchase to drag himself away. To his surprise - he was met with the solid contact of another person. Then, with a heave, he felt himself being pulled clear of the doorway.

The shutter came down onto the head of the zombie, splattering with an almost comical effect. Fleshy, yellowed matter spread out - signalling the end of the moment of panic.

"You're safe... For now."

"Thanks..." He found himself panting out his words - heart still beating hard in his chest. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made him feel lightheaded for a second. He took a breath to calm down.

"Marvin Branagh."

"Leon Kennedy." Leon sighed, taking a moment to shake the dizziness from his head. "There was another officer... I-I couldn't... I couldn't." He held his head down, eyes closing as the images of what passed flashed through his head.

Soft footsteps tapped against the polished floor from behind him, then the figure passed - seeming to fuss for a moment over Martin before he brushed her off. Only then did they turn.

Leon, to his surprise, was met with the sight of a nervous looking young girl.

She was small, probably only just tall enough to meet his shoulders, with her chunky trainers though - she came up a little taller. Overall she was plainly dressed - in high waisted jeans with a white shirt tucked in. Well, what he assumed was once a white shirt. Underneath the black of her high necked top showed through where her shirt was still damp. The knee of her jeans was ripped and beneath it, the skin had been grazed off. To match, she had a similar scrape to her left cheekbone. Her eyes and lips were swollen and red, standing out against the washed out nature of her face as if she'd recently been crying. A soft smattering of freckles - or was that blood? - dusted over her nose - yet all of this was greatly upstaged by the mop of messy electric blue hair that was tucked behind her ears. From the look of things, it had been a while since she'd dyed it - the natural ash brown roots showing.

Lottie was also met with a new face - a young man. Half covered in blood and still panting, she looked him over. He didn't look injured, just shaken. He was a strong build, with a sharp jawline and defined features. His eyes caught her first, baby blue standing out from the slight warmth to his skin. His hair was swept to the side, a soft ash blonde that looked freshly styled. From the chest up, you wouldn't be able to tell he'd just been almost eaten alive. Lucky guy.

She held out her hand for him to take - her body hesitant and shaking slightly. Leon took a breath and took her hand.

"Uh, I'm Lottie. Lottie Knute."

Leon had thought that Lottie had an unfamiliar accent when she'd introduced herself but it wasn't confirmed until much later. She was quiet - even despite the rather brazen signals her hair emitted. She looked deep in thought while he pried information from Martin - the man who was once going to be his superior. Now, all that had been thrown out the window with the discussion of a way to a safer place. That's when Lottie piped back up again.

"This... Passage?" For the first time since he'd met her, Leon watched as Lottie's expression broke from deep concentration. "He reckoned it comes out in... The parking lot?" She stood beside him, craning over slightly to get a better look at the book in his hands.

"This is good. We can get you to a hospital..!" Leon looked from Martin to Lottie who gave him a firm nod of agreement. He was quick to shoot Leon down though - claiming that he was not the priority again. It was becoming more than apparent that Martin was not going to go anywhere despite their protests.

"I am not the priority here."

Almost as if to parallel Leon's thoughts - Lottie had remained to herself. It was hard to equate what she was feeling to one single emotion. But, seeing as she hadn't gone absolutely insane from the reality of what was going on - she deemed the arrival of this rookie cop as a welcome distraction because if she found herself thinking back to whatever the fuck was actually going on-!

_'Actually,'_ Lottie thought - _she'd better not._

That's how she came to watching the two officers talk - Leon, who she'd just found out was only due to start recently, had changed into full riot gear. A sensible decision, that was if that vest he was wearing was anything close to zombie-proof. That's when the gun tucked just beneath her shirt came back to mind - the one she didn't know how to shoot, had almost burnt her fingers off and deafened her. Pulling it out, she held it down, examining the unfamiliar weapon.

"Never thought you'd have to use it, huh?" Leon commented, having spotted the way she held it in her open palm.

"Yeah but prior to today I never thought the dead would rise - yet here we are." Her grip was more than a little awkward. A gun was a gun at the end of the day but it just felt wrong in her small hands.

"So you're not familiar with it then..."

"Well, we don't exactly have guns just lying about at home." She let the smallest crack of a smile grace her lips before it fell again. "The first time I shot it was about half an hour ago and prior to that it was only air rifles in the scouts," Leon turned to her, cocking his head to the side a tad. Lottie brought her head back up and forced a smile. "I'm from London, you see." 

"Ah," He looked down, nodding before a smile broke on his face. His attention flicked between her and the straps of his gloves. "I thought so, you know - from the accent."

"And not the way I'm holding the gun like it's possessed?" That earned a chuckle from Leon. A beat of silence passed.

"So did you just... find it?"

"My dad picked it up after one of the riots - outside this gun store." She looked down for a second, "Thank bloody god no one else had spotted it."

"Riots?"

"Yeah - well, that's what they were reported to be at first." Again, Leon urged her to continue. "That's why we didn't manage to leave town before it was too late. Said the roads were too dangerous."

"Only they weren't riots." Lottie nodded, then shrugged her shoulders.

"What else was anyone supposed to think? That the dead were rising?" She sighed, "I thought it was some disease - like rabies or something. But my parents didn't believe me and said it be over by mid-September so we could go home. Safe to say that didn't happen."

"I was supposed to start here a while ago actually, as a rookie cop - but then I got the call to stay away. So when I didn't hear anything..." Leon finished with his uniform and directed his attention to Lottie. "I just wish I came sooner."

"Well, we're here now -" Lottie offered him a smile, voice still a little timid. "It's nice to have some company - especially those who are more familiar with guns than I am."

"You said your dad found it?" Silently, Leon watched as her expression dropped and he instantly regretted bringing the subject up. "Did he not show you how to use it?" He came to her side as if to go to show her how to use it.

"He'd never shot it either, so when it ended up just being me..." Something seemed to want to clog in Lottie's throat and suddenly her voice felt hoarse. But this time - she swallowed the feeling down and faced him with a half-hearted smile. "There's a first time for everything, right?"

"..Right."

"You any good?" Martin asked with eyes locked on Lottie's gun, wholly serious. For a moment, Lottie was taken aback by his tone - but it made sense that she'd need to be armed in this mess.

"I've... Used it before..." Absentmindedly, she fiddled with the handgun - a brown model with black grips and a warm oak body. The inscription on the side read 'kendo'.

"Hm," Martins gaze flicked between Leon and Lottie before a wave of pain washed over him again. "That will have to do for now."

Leon still had the pocket notebook in his hands. The pair both knew that Martin was not coming with them - Lottie especially. She saw what happened after her mother got injured by the infected. The worst of it all was that it was very clear that Martin already knew his own fate. That wouldn't stop them from trying though.

"You two need to get going then - especially now I know both of you are suitably armed." A heavy silence enveloped the group. Leon and Lottie shared a look before bowing their heads. "You two need to have each other's back out there. I'd come with you - but I'd just slow you both down."

"Fine. We'll find a way out of here."

"And then-" Lottie added, following Leon as he began to make his way over to the gated archway. "We'll get out. Together."


	4. 3 // Evenfall

"Ugh... What the fuck?" Leon held what was left of an officers head up - the jaw looked torn on the right side. All that was left of the skin between his cheekbone and neck was stringy, ripped muscle.

"Jesus." Lottie's nose scrunched up, face twisting into a grimace.

Leon tried to hold the head up, but it had been so badly slashed that it refused to keep its place. The pair shared a look - a worried one. Nothing they had seen so far had been this gruesome - well, for Lottie that was. What she didn't know was that Leon was more than hesitant to reveal the details about how the officer had died - she had a hunch it wasn't pretty, though.

The pair had only just made it past the locked gates of reception and into the hallway. They'd already found more victims of the outbreak - one just ahead of them was hanging from the ceiling. Lord knows how he got up there.

"We should probably move," Leon whispered, backing up.

They made their way down the hall - turning into the only door they could get into, luckily only meeting a few of the dead as they went. It was like this through the whole of the station from the looks of things. In each room, there were officers or civilians all dead. Some were still crawling about, moaning and crying out whenever either of them got too close. Blood splattered across wall and floor only added to the stress of their environment. The measures that had been put in place to keep the dead out meant that half the station was cordoned off - probably a bad sign.

At this point, they'd ventured the most of the west of the station. With the lights out, it was like some horror maze out of a theme park - only with a much higher budget with a very real risk of danger. Lottie had never liked those fake, plastic attractions - now they seemed much like a dream away. There were things that not horror film she had seen could capture. The fear in her chest - swelling and suffocating her - like water flooding her thorax. The smell was something she never expected - metallic and rotten beyond belief. It was dizzying. Matched with the constant state of distress and adrenaline pumping through her, she didn't know how she was still sane.

If she could, she would've curled herself into a ball and cried.

"You alright?" Leon's voice was soft, understanding. He pulled her from her thoughts, tears brimming her eyes and nose threatening to run.

"Yeah." She affirmed with pressed lips and a firm nod.

In Lottie's opinion, the worst room they'd encountered was the west office.

It was a mess - papers were everywhere and it looked like something had stormed the office. Whatever had happened, it had left behind a morbid trail. This only added to the worst of it all. Standing at the back of the room, the pair lifted their flashlights up to the banner hanging from the ceiling.

_'Welcome Leon'_

She flicked her gaze to Leon and watched as the realisation took over. His eyes flicked over the writing, then down to the floor as he processed the sight in front of him. His mouth fell open for a moment before he clamped it shut.

"Hey, you doing alright?" Lottie knew it was a dumb question - neither of them was alright.

"It's..." He swallowed, not bringing his head up. "I.."

Her hand hovered, just a touch away from his arm, she ducked her head into his view - he looked pale. Of all the things to see, a hint of what should've been was a grim reminder of what had been lost. Leon should've met these people - bonded with them and made friends. Yet he was here, looking at the remains of what was to be his welcome to his new job.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," He said, bringing his hand up to meet Lottie's arm. "It's just... It's just...-" Leon swallowed, flicking from her eyes to the room. His grip was soft, almost unsure. Lottie brought her other hand up to reassure him.

"I know." Lottie gave him a small but sad smile, feeling her own feelings bubbling up.

"..Yeah." He nodded - shaking his head as if to shake off what was on his mind. Leon then straightened and let out a large sigh - his hands feeling heavier on Lottie's arm. "Shittest first day on the job ever, huh?" The humour was not missed by Lottie by any means - she sniffed as a breathy chuckle escaped her. He smiled down at her - a lighter but sombre mood set in.

"I doubt the apocalypse is anyone's idea of a good day - any day." She jested, "Although you have definitely scored bingo with this one."

"You're telling me." They moved apart to search the room - a puzzle that was left for Leon for his first day still remained set up - so it was fitting that he solved it, whilst Lottie snooped from desk to desk.

"Really though? First day?"

"Yep," He sighed, popping the 'P' and crouching down to fiddle with a padlock. "Only just finished training, I was supposed to start a good few days ago now."

"Oh?"

"I got a call a week ago to stay away..." He paused for a moment. "I wish I'd come sooner."

"Well, I wouldn't say that so soon. I think you jumped right in the deepest of deep ends here." Lottie teased, picking through the papers scattered about. "Although - I'm glad your here now."

"Oh yeah?" She could hear the smirk on his face.

"Uh huh," She looked up from her place, smile still hanging on her lips. Raising an eyebrow, she spotted him watching her out of the corner of his eye. "It's nice to not be the only walking snack for those... things."

"A snack, ey?"

"Well - if that's what you're into..." Cocking her head, Lottie sighed and returned her attention to the desks, trying to hide her smile. "I mean it's a free country."

"I don't know about you but," A lock clicked and after a rattle, Lottie heard it hit the floor. "I don't think it being a free country explains anything going on out there."

"You tell them that." Her hands skimmed over another desk, picking up an overturned nameplate.

"I'd love to but I have an investigation to conduct."

"Oh yeah - Rookie?" Lottie mocked, lips curled into a smirk, imitating Leon.

"Oof, low blow from the high school student..."

"Actually, it's 'Miss first year of university' to you, _Rookie_."

"Yes, ma'am."

Reading the nameplate - Elliot Edwards- she recognised it. The officer - the one who Martin confirmed that Leon couldn't save. The only thing he had left on the expanse of his desk was an open report file. Seeing as it was dated recently, Lottie flipped it open.

_2:30 am_   
_It's down to just me and 3 others. No weapons...no ammo...and too many skirmishes have drained us mentally and physically. We're not gonna make it... Officer Phillips once suggested we escape through the sewers. Apparently, there's a secret tunnel under this place left over from its museum days._

_I brushed her idea off before, but now, it's not sounding all that bad. Yeah, there's no proof there's even a tunnel or that the sewers aren't infested with zombies, but I don't wanna sit here and wait to die either. It's a long shot, but I'm gonna try to find out what I can about that tunnel._

"The skirmishes..?" She mumbled to herself. It wasn't a long shot to assume he was talking about what happened within the station. But, what piqued her interest was that the station was once a museum...

Taking out the pocketbook, it was easy to see that Elliot had gotten some way into his investigation before he died. Flipping the pages, three statues all had various three symbol codes. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Each medallion was at each statue, and they required all three to exit down into the ominous '?' room marked between the station and the car park.

They just had to find them.

"All right, Officer, I don't think we're gonna find anything here." Lottie sighed, putting the file back onto the table. "All these files are dated prior to-- Leon!"

From where he'd been unlocking the combination lock, one of the dead police officers had risen. He ambled up, dragging his body up from his desk with a loud moan. He looked dead and hadn't moved prior but something shifted him back to life. He stretched out, dangerously close to Leon with his arms stretched out to grab his neck. It lurched forwards - almost throwing its body weight in Leon's direction. He'd reacted just in time - hands only just able to catch what was left of its forearms.

"Shit!"

"Hang on..!"

Quickly, she raised her gun, firing a shot as Leon ducked out of the way. It took more than one – namely as she was a poor shot but it gave enough time for him to recuperate and finish the job. He brought his Matilda up to the chin of the zombie and pulled the trigger. With a squelch and a literal 'bang', the bullet popped through its skull.

"Fuck, that was close." Leon took a step back, rubbing the back of his neck. He came to full height, blood splattered over the front of his uniform.

"Are you ok?" Lottie came up behind Leon, gun still tight in her grip. She looked at what was left of the corpse first before turning her eyes to him. They were wide with panic, earlier mood lost in the dilation of her pupils.

"Yeah -" He stopped for a second before turning to her. "I have a feeling we're gonna be asking each other that a lot today."

She hummed in agreement and followed him around to where he had been at the desk at the other end of the room. She reached him as he pulled a lock off the end of the desk and lifted the cover. There, sitting polished and dust-free, a small nameplate sat with the name "Leon S. Kennedy" inscribed in gold. From her side, Leon sighed - heavy and full. His hands moved to pick up what looked to be a magazine - a gift for his personal handgun from his co-workers. A solemn silence had set in, almost in respect of what would never be. He loaded his gun with his newfound clip, feeling the new weight in his hands.

"We should probably get a move on." He sighed.

It was a while before they made any progress. Leon had found a key - with a head that resembled a spade from a deck of cards. She'd noticed the marked doors around the precinct. They'd mostly been locked, so at least they now knew what they would have to look for now. It wasn't easy to remain chipper when every room contained a handful of zombies that require an extortionate amount of ammo to put down. In the end, it turned into an Olympics of dodging and weaving.

The mood had remained fairly serious as they ended up in the library. It was a brightly lit room - a nice change from the dark and dingey state that everywhere else seemed to have adopted. The pair were also a little on edge - thanks to the artsy layout of the station. It was full of twists and turns; highly irritating to say the least. But this meant that most corners were blind, so anything lurking beyond was a mystery. The newfound light was definitely welcome - especially from what they'd seen from the room prior.

In the since abandoned storage rooms, bodies had been pilled behind what seemed to be cell bars. The room was filled with dust-covered furniture, all apart from a statue in the cell confines. The only way in looked to be through triggering the C4 conveniently strapped to the boards - sealing it off. Worst of all there was a note left behind by whoever had orchestrated the crime, stating his intentions to 'give that one a raving loon something to really squeal about'. The pair didn't stay in that room for long.

"God - it really is every room in the precinct..." Leon mumbled, thinking out loud.

Standing on the walkway - Lottie looked over the bannister. Below them, they could see what was left of the library and the survivors camped out that didn't make it. One was still being feasted upon and Lottie swallowed thickly. The other side was no better - bodies lay strewn on the floor

"Martin wasn't selling us short when he said this place was no longer safe." Lottie motioned to Leon to look - trying not to think too much about it. He recoiled a little. A grim look swept his features before his radio suddenly came to life. At the sound, Lottie heard a moan. It was a low wheeze only just loud enough for them to hear over the squelch of the zombie they'd earlier spotted. Leon flinched, drawing his gun from his holster.

The radio spat white noise again, this time followed by the scratch of a voice at the other end.

"Leon? Lottie?" More static, "I've found something you may want to check out."

Little did the pair know that it would all go downhill from there.


End file.
